


A Millenia Without Joy

by TheLoneSurvivor



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, F/F, Regret, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7307026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoneSurvivor/pseuds/TheLoneSurvivor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It seems my happiness took the same bullet Chloe did.<br/>Even her and I’s last kiss feels like a thousand years ago."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Millenia Without Joy

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something that I wrote tonight. Completed Life is Strange for my first time yesterday and man, what a gut punch that ending was. Wrote this because I decided "Why the hell not?" despite there probably being a bunch more stories like this one out there that have done this better. Might be a little out of character, but I don't think so.  
> Might make a companion one-shot to this regarding the other option that Max can chose. Probably.  
> Hope you like this, whatever it is.

It takes every last ounce of my strength to even remain standing. Joyce is having a tough time doing that task too. I just… I can’t even believe it. She’s gone. Chloe is dead and I let her die. The black coffin gleams in the bright golden hour sunset and I can’t do anything more than stand and not cry. I’ve done enough of that during the time since my last kiss with Chloe until no more than an hour ago. I know my eyes are still red and flushed and my cheeks are damp.

The priest says his words but I don’t pay attention. Not out of disrespect, but I can’t expend the energy to do so. Since Chloe died… I’ve felt like a husk, a shadow of my former self. I felt it when I allowed William to live and found Chloe paralyzed from the neck down, when I saw Jefferson shoot her, and every other time I witnessed her die.

I can still feel her kiss on my lips. The deafening scream of the wind, the icy bullets of rain soaking me to the bone… I am back there, experiencing everything. Every last detail is visible to me, and Chloe is the spotlight. Her wondrous blue hair, white shirt and faux-leather jacket give me warmth. Her touch is like jolts of electricity coursing through me even outside of the memory. And her kiss… just as good as the first time, intoxicating. I wish I could experience that a thousand times. I bet it would feel amazing no matter how many times I kissed her.

I can’t see her tears with all the rain, but I know they’re there. She doesn’t like the sound of dying just as much as me. She wants to smile but she can’t force it on her, she knew I would see through it anyways. The photo is in my hands and I look in her eyes, seeing the depressed acceptance in Chloe’s eyes. And… I let the tornado take it away. I can’t stand the thought of losing her.

No, that’s not how it happened. Here I am, looking at Chloe’s coffin with her inside, so I used the photo. Do I still have it? Do my powers still even work? I would go through a hundred of those nightmares if it meant the tornado would never happen and Chloe would live. If I don’t have the photo, I could always just go back to Blackwell’s bathroom and get it again, right?

Fuck, why does losing her hurt so bad? It’s just… pain, everywhere continuously, stagnantly. It doesn’t fade but doesn’t increase either. It’s just there, nothing more to it than that. It exists as much as I do, but what about everyone else?

I wouldn’t be surprised if this was just another dream, or nightmare. What did I ever do to deserve this fate?

Oh, people want me to talk. Great. I guess I _did_ know her better than anybody, even Rachel. I only wish I could get to know her more.

I try to gulp, but there’s no moisture in my mouth. When I go to speak, it’s hoarse from crying and toneless, devoid of life and colour. Like the dark room… No. Fuck that. I will _not_ remember that shit right now.

“Chloe was… my best friend, I’m sure you all knew that. She was a wonderful individual, full of life and joy that made her glow brighter than the sun, even in darker times. She… she had it rough the years I was gone. A lot of her changed, but her fundamentals remained the same. She was my best friend, and I can’t believe she’s gone.” My voice gives under the strain of speaking and I whisper out an apology before stepping back. I want to say more, but I can’t.

Fresh tears stream down my face as I stumble and fall to the ground, leaning against a tombstone just to keep me upright. Warren, bless his soul, comes by and offers his hand. I look up at him with despondent eyes and let my head fall. Several seconds later, he comes and sits down beside me, wrapping me in his arm. I lean against it, there’s nothing else I can do.

It seems like he leaves only minutes later. When they’re all gone, I cry again. There’s nothing else to do with my sad and empty existence that stretches on for too long without colour. My last kiss and final moment with Chloe play in my head over and over like a broken record. I almost wish I _could_ break that damn record, just to rid myself of the despair that the memory brings.

We loved one another, and I think that’s what hurts the most. We never even got be with one another truly before I had to let her die. It’s my fault she’s dead, no one else’s. Not even Nathan’s. He was nothing more than a damaged man warped into Jefferson’s personal tool to be used and disposed of when he no longer had purpose. I genuinely feel sorry for him.

When I get up, the sky is dark and the moon shows itself. I check the time: two after midnight. Time to… go back to my home, I suppose. Nothing else to do. I can’t get the photo, because the school proper is locked at night and I don’t even want to see the rest of town, especially not the lighthouse. Chloe’s truck is still parked where I left it and I still have the keys. Even using the truck makes me cry. I focus on the road as I don’t need to end up like Chloe when William was alive. I shouldn’t just throw away my own life because I lost the only person I truly loved and cared about in this godforsaken town. Warren’s nice and all, but he’ll never be Chloe.

I play the memory of Chloe and I kissing, desperately clinging to anything that could bring happiness to my voidic state. It doesn’t work, only making me sadder. The more times I play it, the more I realize just how much sadness was in the kiss, along with unrestrained love and passion. It seems my happiness took the same bullet Chloe did.

Even her and I’s last kiss feels like a thousand years ago.

I make it back home slowly, giving myself enough time to deal with myself and my plans for the future. It’s been such a crazy week… though, I doubt I can think of it as a week. More like a thousand years… The campus is empty and devoid of life when I make it there. Good. I don’t want to speak to anyone right now.

My room is quiet and solitary, just what I need right now. I lock the door, take off what clothes I feel I don’t need and fall into bed and cry some more. Every part of me aches with emotional pain and damage. Just how broken of a woman am I?

The bed is usually soft and comforting, but right now, it feels no better than a slab of stone. I look up at my ceiling and do my best to think everything out and find some sleep. Somehow, I do.

Morning greets me worse than what I’d expect. I feel even worse and more exhausted than when I went to bed, that’s the exact opposite of the effects I needed. I’m drenched in sweat when I actually take the time to examine myself. Nathan’s - or is it actually Jefferson’s? - message written in black marker covers some of my photos. Fuck that man. As much as I still begrudgingly respect him, he can by all means die for what he did to Rachel, Nathan, Victoria, Kate and Chloe. He’s taken more lives than his own is worth.

After I’ve had a shower - even the blissful water does nothing to make me feel better; what the fuck is wrong with me? - I get dressed and go to the bathroom in Blackwell major. Screw classes, there’s no way I’ll be showing up to those in the immediate future. I can go next week and do everything that is required of me just fine.

When can this pain just end?

There’s still Chloe’s blood staining the bathroom floor. I don’t cry when I see it, but it still makes me even more depressed. Memories of Chloe flash through my mind and I close my eyes for a few moments and lean against the wall, settling down before continuing. My photo is still on the ground, oddly enough. The butterfly, as blue as Chloe’s hair, on the bucket with my reflection visible on the metal. It’s a little damp, but functional. I do a quick test and find my power still works, feeling my skull almost condense and crush my brain - just like it's always felt. I could go back once more: repeat everything and make the outcome different.

Maybe I should. Maybe just to see Chloe one last time. Maybe to know how life would be with Chloe and without Arcadia Bay. …Maybe to just get one more kiss from the woman I love.

After all, a thousand years is a long time to go without…


End file.
